


Come A Little Closer

by ajeepandleather



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, Kinda, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Pining, Scent Marking, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 23:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15716964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajeepandleather/pseuds/ajeepandleather
Summary: For my 4k winner,@whenpuskincomestoshovewho asked for Derek finding ~casual~ reasons to make Stiles smell like him.





	Come A Little Closer

It isn’t as big of a deal as Stiles’ face makes it seem. Seriously, this does not warrant a full jaw drop and eyebrows to the heavens. It’s just Derek taking off his sweater and handing it to the human who’s shivering like a chihuahua.

“Wha- Dude.” Stiles just stares at the garment in question but doesn’t take it, leaving Derek out to suffer the awkward time of indecision. He mulls over whether he should drop his arm or thrust it forward again.

“You’re cold. Take the damn sweater.” Thrusting it forward again is what won out in his mind but it doesn’t stay for long. He sighs in exasperation and starts to drop his arm but nearly flinches with how fast Stiles snatches the sweater from his hand.

“No, no, didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Stiles pointedly does not look at him while he scrunches up the material and shrugs it over his head. Somehow his hair looks like even more of a disaster and it’s not on his shoulders straight. Rolling his eyes he reaches forward to adjust the collar so it sits even across his surprising broad frame.

It’s while he’s leaning in those few extra inches that he catches it. The scent wafts up from the collar where Derek’s scent has soaked in the most and from the skin of Stiles’ neck, strong and clear. They twist and twine with each other as they reach Derek’s nose, filling his lungs with something full and light that sits at the top of his lungs.

He stumbles back a bit when he realizes he’s lingered just a tad too long and catches Stiles’ confused gaze. Derek huffs and turns away and refuses to admit he misses the scent when it clears from his sinuses.

***

It isn’t weird. Derek is just curious and he has the right to investigate it. It’s not like it’s going to hurt anyone.

Ever since that night in the woods, Stiles filling in his favorite olive green sweater nicely, Derek’s been haunted by the scent. He’s tried figuring out exactly what the scent is, like lemons and sage or maybe beachwood and mint? Now he just sounds like a really bad candle namer. But he can’t get the thought out of his mind.

So, it would make sense that if he could just figure out what exactly the scent was he could move on. He just had to make Stiles smell like himself and inconspicuously take a sniff or two. Yeah, perfect plan.

The next available opportunity was the pack meeting. They’d be discussing the new monster that had sent Derek and Stiles on their little stakeout but it wouldn’t be long before it turned into the debate of which board game to play this time. Movie nights had become their own entity altogether and were to be had on Sunday night so the pack could recharge before another long week began.

He arrived to the McCall house just a few minutes behind everyone else, having to park further away than usual but he didn’t mind. He knocks and Mrs. McCall opens the door for him.

“You know the door is unlocked Wednesday nights, feel free to just let yourself in.” The woman smiled softly, eyes crinkling with age. She had said something similar everytime he arrived for these meetings for weeks now but Derek had yet to take her up on it. He was always caught somewhere between apprehensive of the kindness and embarrassed for making her come let him in.

He nods and ducks his head as he enters. She pats his shoulder blade as he passes and Derek resists the urge to flinch. He wasn’t used to such casual, platonic contact and he was reminded how much he missed it everytime it happened. He makes a beeline for the livingroom in hopes of finding Stiles quickly and hopefully with a spot open next to him but is stopped short.

“Hey Derek, could you help me with something?” Scott walked right up to Derek with a smile that could compete with the sun. Derek, caught off guard yet again by one of the McCalls just nods and finds himself following Scott to the kitchen. When they get there Scott fiddles with a bowl of chips and nods to the dip and veggies Mrs.McCall must have brought home. But when he tries to walk it back to the livingroom he’s stopped by a hand on his arm.

“I was- well, I was wondering if there was anything you’d like to do for the full moon?” Scott chances a glance towards Derek before his glaze flits away. He must find anything too intimidating because he continues. “It’s just, everyone has pretty good control by now and I know wolves are supposed to do more than huddle together with chains until the night passes so I was just thinking maybe you had . . . like, well, any traditions or something?” Scott cringes at his own floundering but doesn’t open his mouth to take it back.

Derek takes a moment to take it all in and process what Scott is saying. “You want me to -”

“Only if you want to! Like, no pressure or anything. But Stiles pointed out that the Hales were a long standing pack and they would probably have traditions and stuff for full moons and -” Derek tunes out for a moment. Stiles. Of course it was Stiles who thought of it, he seems to think of everything.

“We did.” He cuts Scott out of his rambling. It’s less endearing and more awkward when he does it, almost painful to watch. “We used to go to the lake in the Preserve and used it like a centerpoint. Some would go run in the area and the younger ones would stay at the lake, rough house and play in the water.”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds great.” Scott’s smiling again. “Would you be okay with us doing that? Again, no pressure but it could be fun and you probably miss it and-”

“Scott, it’s fine. Yes, I would like it if we did that.”

The alpha smiles softly, “Okay, cool. Yeah, that’s awesome.” Derek nods and, unable to stay any longer, turns and heads for the livingroom again.

When he enters the room he makes almost instantaneous eye contact with Stiles. He’s tugging at his own fingers and his leg is bouncing irregularly so Derek knows he’s been waiting for something. Oh, it clicks rather suddenly in his mind. He’s been waiting to see how that conversation with Scott went. Derek does his best to smile reassuringly, conveying the lack of anger that Stiles was probably expecting. Stiles brightens up like a goddamn Christmas tree and does a small fist pump.

“So, we doing anything new for the full moon?” He asks when Derek settles onto the couch next to him.

“Probably go to the lake in the middle of the Preserve, actually go for a run.” Derek watches the rest of the pack get situated around the room rather than meet Stiles’ gaze.

“There’s a lake in there?” The layer of disbelief in the human’s voice get him to turn back to Stiles.

“Yeah. It’s about seven or eight miles in but it’s there.” Stiles’ wide eyes blink a few times and Derek is caught by the urge to count them because surely there are more on him than an average human.

“Alright guys, let’s see what we know.” Scott claps to gain the room’s attention as if every beta in the area wasn’t instantly drawn to him the moment he walked in. The meeting went on, Derek and Stiles (well, mostly Stiles) reporting on what little they saw. Derek barely paid attention while the group discussed, more interested in carefully brushing his arm against Stiles’ without it being obvious.

He must really suck at being subtle because after just the first touch Stiles goes stiff, like he’s frozen in place. Derek in turn pauses his movement and holds his breath, waiting for something, anything to happen. Slowly, so slowly, Stiles unwinds, settling into the couch further. He’s no longer leaning on the arm of the couch but sitting up straight, pushing the whole of his arm against Derek’s. Derek takes a breath and savors even that small mixing of their scents.

As the meeting goes on Derek tries to sniff the air without drawing attention to it, still trying to decipher what had called to his wolf that night in the Preserve. He startles when practically everyone in the room starts to stand and move about, Malia and Liam dashing away to the hallway closet where Derek knows the McCalls keep their board games and some of Scott’s old toys.

“Hey, I’m gonna get some water, big guy. You want any?” Stiles stands and Derek has a moment to mourn the loss of the warmth at his side before the words register.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Stiles just smiles and lays a hand on his shoulder, swiping his thumb back and forth once before moving off to the kitchen. It takes a lot of Derek’s willpower not to turn his head and sniff where Stiles’ hand had been. Too much for his pride to come away untouched.

When he gets back to his loft that night, the scent is already fading but Derek yanks it over his head and holds the fabric to his nose once the door slides shut behind him. It tickles the inside of his nose like a tease but there isn’t enough. He has it on the tip of his tongue while it stirs in his chest and he’s sure it’s going to drive him mad.

He has more work to do.

***

Another two days go by before he has a new opportunity. The pack has gone to a baseball game to support Kira, waving and cheering everytime the kitsune waves to them in the stands. They’ve managed to find a big enough empty space to accommodate all of them including the ridiculous attachable seat and set of blankets Lydia had Jackson lug with them.

It doesn’t feel unusual to have Stiles next to him, it seems more often than not these days when the pack settles down somewhere Stiles is at his side. Not that Derek minds, not really. The kid may flail and gets just a tad too loud for sensitive ears but the warmth was nice, the chatter an easy background noise. Stiles grabbing Derek’s forearm in excitement is a bonus Derek hoards all for himself.

“Are you cold?” Derek may or may not have worn the maroon sweater with the thumbholes over a white t-shirt on purpose. That purpose being Stiles talks about how jealous he is that Derek has “the best, comfiest, softest sweater in the world, dude” more times than Derek can count.

“A little?” Stiles doesn’t stop rubbing his upper arms as he says it, fruitlessly trying to bring warmth back to his skin.

Derek makes a big show of huffing in annoyance and pulling the sweater off, holding it out without looking at the human next to him. This time the garment is snatched without hesitation and Stiles’ head is halfway through the head hole when he asks -

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Normally Derek might make a quip about werewolf metabolism or just telling Stiles to shut up but he sounds so genuinely concerned it throws Derek off. He just lifts the leather jacket sitting on the bench next to him, not even gathered enough to throw in a sarcastic smile. “Okay, cool.” He pulls the sweater on fulling, humming happily as he shoves his thumbs into the holes of the sleeves.

It doesn’t take long for the scents to mingle and waft over to him. Derek doesn’t even have to work to get a decent lungful of it because Stiles is jumping around, throwing his arms up in the air when Kira sends a ball far into the outfield. It’s just as heady and intoxicating as the first time but Derek realizes too late that he’s made a mistake.

The pack is crammed together stacked on two rows of bleachers, surrounded on either side by people enjoying the game with them. And he’s given Stiles his sweater. To mix their scents. While they sit next to each other. In a packed stand. With no easy way to escape it if it gets to be too much.

Already he’s feeling a little light headed with the swirl of their combined scents in his nose, hands clenching over his thighs resisting the urge to unsheath his claws. He closes his eyes and focuses on steady but shallow breaths but the world must be against him today like every other day of his life. Something major must have happened because he can hear, smell and feel Stiles jumping up and down, shouting in excitement, scent sweet and bright.

Derek jumps up from his seat and nudges past people as quickly and politely as he can manage. If that means he gives up on polite to growl and move faster, that no one else’s business but his own. He darts down the stairs and makes a quick escape to the soccer fields behind the stands, not sure where he’s headed just anywhere away from that scent.

It’s not even two minutes later that Derek lifts his eyes to the dark and star speckled sky because surely someone up there is fucking with him.

“Hey, Derek, what happened?” Stiles sounds like he’s jogged his way over, heartbeat slightly elevated.

“Nothing, Stiles. Go back to the game.” He uses his gruff voice, the one with just an edge of growl to it. It’s the same one he used to scare Stiles in the police car and when he had him pinned against his bedroom door. It had worked then, but they were different now.

“Yeah, no, you left. Practically made a break for it like hell was at your heels,” Stiles scoffs. Derek turns and tries to not to breathe too deeply. Stiles has his arms crossed over his chest and his you’re-not-telling-me-something-so-I’m-gonna-figure-it-out face on.

“Just go back.” Derek knows it’s in vain but he has to try. But all his efforts get him is Stiles moving in closer, eyes narrowing further.

“You’ve been acting weird. Weirder than usual and now it’s starting to worry me.” The words rattle Derek to his core. He has had someone worry about him in a long time. Hasn’t had anyone try to get to know him well enough to know when he’s acting strange in even longer. It aches to think that someone cares, that that someone is Stiles of all people.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Another hollow attempt at a denial, a deflection but Derek doesn’t know how to face things like this head on.

“I think you do,” Stiles takes another step closer and Derek tries to subtly breath through his mouth. But Stiles, of course because he’s Stiles, notices and his gaze is drawn there looking at his lips before flicking back up to his eyes. “You keep doing this thing where you’ll get close and then you’ll run away like I’ve done something wrong.”

Oh, no. It’s that face. The soft, sad one when Stiles thinks he’s done something wrong and genuinely feels bad for it. He did it when he broke one of Kira’s old hand crafted Japanese bowls, and when he got distracted and let Mrs. McCall’s birthday cake burn or when he tore one of Derek’s old books. It was something that broke your heart a little to see because it wasn’t a look asking for pity or a gentler punishment but like he’s heartbroken at having let you down. Derek hates that face just as much as he loves it because Stiles showing true emotion without the sarcasm and humor is a special thing to witness.

“You haven’t, Stiles. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” Now there’s that indignation, a bright flame in his gaze. It’s the driving force when Stiles is looking for answers, knowing they’re out there somewhere he just needs to look further. It’s that almost childish need to know that keeps him up late into the night to research.It’s another look Derek has come to love.

It hits like a sucker punch to the gut. So much like a physical force that Derek inhales reflexively, taking in a deep lungful of the scent still wafting from Stiles. DerekandStiles. It’s what’s been lingering on the tip of his tongue, the unique scent he couldn’t quite name but knew he remembered.

He flashes back to his parents, bumping hips and checking shoulders while they move around the kitchen. Sitting together while the family piled together for cocoa and movies. Peter and Aunt Ginni when they would chase each other around the house with rolled up hand towels. His cousin Mary when she had brought home Rick for the first time. It was that little twang of something extra when two scents came together like they were made to be apart of something more.

“Your scent-” Derek almost chokes on the words when he takes another breath.

“What? What about it? Do I smell bad?” Stiles takes a small step back but Derek can’t have that because he needs this now that he knows it’s there. He hooks a single finger into a belt loop on either side of Stiles’ hips and leans forward to rest his head on the human’s shoulder. Stiles startles a bit before freezing, holding so still Derek feels it like an itch in the back of his mind.

“No, you- you smell like-” Derek huffs, not finding the words. He’s never been great with words but now he needs them most and he can’t get them to cooperate at all.

“Hey, it’s okay, big guy. Take your time.” Stiles’ voice is mellow if a little shaky and it’s only a second or two more before there’s long, timid fingers in his hair. Derek takes a deep breath, purposely through his nose and lets the scent calm him. He remembers his mother doing the same after especially hard days working in the District Attorney's office, practically folding herself into his father’s arms on the couch.

“You don’t smell bad, Stiles. You smell really good,” Stiles makes a strange noise at that but Derek continues. Hopefully, if this goes well, he’ll have plenty of time to prove how much he enjoys Stiles’ scent later. “And then, when you smell like me, too it’s- well, you smell perfect to me.”

The fingers pause in his hair and Derek braces himself before straightening up to look at Stiles’ face. He’s not entirely sure what he had been expecting - confusion at best, anger or disgust at worst? What he finds is a soft surprise that slowly morphs into happiness. HIs scent echoes the sentiment even as his heartbeat picks up.

“This is certainly the strangest and sweetest way I imagined this would go.” His smile only seems to grow when Derek’s eyebrows draw inward in a frown.

“What do you mean.”

“Well, I always saw us rushing towards each other in slow-mo and kissing desperately after a harshly fought and won battle. Or maybe while one of us was crazy injured and we confessed just in case or-”

“You imagined this?” Derek can’t quite compute what’s going on here. Maybe it’s the scent still curling in his chest, making his wolf rumble happily.

“Yeah, dude. I’ve kinda been gone on you for ages.” His laugh is just slightly stilted, a little ragged around the edges like he’s losing confidence in what he’s confessed. And that simply won’t do.

“That’s good,” Derek tells him, leaning in slowly just in case, “because I’m pretty gone on you, too.” Stiles stands firm where he is so Derek closes the gap between them and presses the most chaste kiss of his life to his mate-potential’s lips.

They don’t move for long moments, even as Stiles sighs and melts into it a bit more. It’s not until the human slides slightly chilled hands up Derek’s arms and wraps them around his neck that Derek tilts his head to press a little deeper. It doesn’t go much further than that before Derek finally gives in to the need to press his nose against Stiles’ jaw, rubbing in his scent further than the fabric of his sweater ever could. Stiles tips his head back obligingly, heartbeat stuttering when Derek presses open mouth kisses to the skin as he passes it.

“So uh- W-what do I smell like?” Stiles asks in stutters, arms wrapping tighter around his neck when Derek tries to pull back and switch sides. Before he does so, he moves just enough to look Stiles in the eye and flash his blues.

“You smell like mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on Tumblr for more Stereky fun or check out my [other works](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajeepandleather/works)


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